


Better than Drinking Alone

by batty4u



Series: Silver Bells and Whiskey [2]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2013-11-28
Packaged: 2018-01-02 20:51:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batty4u/pseuds/batty4u
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the first Thanksgiving he ever spent alone. He was sure of it. Before his parents had died, they spent each year at his Grammie’s. When it was just the two of them, sometimes Trevor and his parents would join them for dinner. When Grammie had to move to the home, they had dinner there, with some of her friends and floormates. He’d never been alone before. The realization of that settled like a cold weight in his chest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better than Drinking Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I'm posting it a day early so it actually gets posted, the third fic in the series will hopefully be posted tomorrow but idk if I'll have time. That fic will be Louis centric, kind of.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy a pure fluffy fic about the family Mike didn't realize he had.

The day before Thanksgiving, Mike was able to completely forget about the impending Holiday. He and Harvey had brunch with the heiress of Tiffany & Co, the beautiful Madeleine, and her personal attorney, who was thankfully not a monumental asshole. They discussed the transfer from her previous firm, Hollis, Klein, and Joseph, to Pearson Specter, reassured her that she would be in the care of New York’s absolute finest law firm. Harvey flirted just enough to make her smile, though Mike knew she was the kind of woman who saw straight through the bullshit. The ruby red lipstick gave it away. It was the shade Jessica wore when she was out for blood.

Madeleine asked for some time to think over their offer, she’d be back Monday, once the holiday was over. 

After that, Harvey took him to grab lunch, an actual lunch, not just the hot dog stand. Though that may have been because the constant rain, snow, and icey mix that showered down on them had sent the vendors indoors for the day. So they took cover in a nearby bar to share lunch and a hot, celebratory drink before heading back to the office.

“Got any plans for tomorrow?” Mike asked.

Harvey made a face and shrugged. “You?” Mike mimicked Harvey’s answer and his boss laughed. “Well steer clear of the office till Friday at least, Jessica likes everyone to take at least two days off. That way they can’t complain later about never getting time off on the holidays.”

“Even the associates?” Mike asked, popping a fry into his mouth.

“Especially the associates.” Harvey sipped his warmed whiskey cider with a sigh. “You all whine the loudest.”

“Do not.”

“Oh, yes you do.”

They finished lunch laughing and stealing fries from each other’s plates.

When they got back to the office, Louis dropped a stack of paperwork for Mike to work on over the weekend. Mike didn’t mention the yamaka perched on the top of Louis’ head, but it made him smile, seeing Louis take part in a tradition.  
He set to work on the pile, anything to distract him a little bit longer. He finished half the work and dropped it off in Louis’ office, before Louis left for the day. The Associates started filing out around five, chattering about going home to see their families, excited for two days off and maybe even a long weekend, if they were able to swing it with Louis. Mike said goodbye from his desk, Kyle ruffling his hair on his way past, a few others wishing him a good holiday. Rachel found him around six, on her way home, all bundled up in a gorgeous blue coat.

“Harvey’s not making you work tonight is he?” She asked in surprise.

Mike smiled and shook his head. “Nah, he’s probably gone by now. I’m just trying to get some stuff done so I don’t have as much when we get back.” He set down his highlighter and sat back in his chair. “You heading to your parents?”

“Yeah, Dad’s apparently super excited this year,” She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “You know… You are still invited to dinner tomorrow. If you didn’t already have plans.”

Something unspoken hung in the air between them. Mike stood, leaned over the edge of his cubicle and kissed her cheek.

“Thanks Rachel. Enjoy it with your parents though, okay? They deserve the chance to spoil their new law student.”

She seemed a little disappointed with his answer. “Just cause we agreed to split doesn’t mean-”

“I know. It’s not that, I promise.” He sat back down. “I just think you should share this with your family.”

“And you?” She asked. “What are you doing?”

Mike just shrugged. “I’ll probably stop by the nursing home, see a few of Grammie’s old friends and nurses. Watch the parade. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Alright. Happy Thanksgiving, Mike.”

“You too, Rachel. Give my love to your parents.”

With that, he was left more or less alone in the bull pen. He packed up around eight, took a cab home and settled in with a bowl of soup to watch the wintery weather outside his window.

It was the first Thanksgiving he ever spent alone. He was sure of it. Before his parents had died, they spent each year at his Grammie’s. When it was just the two of them, sometimes Trevor and his parents would join them for dinner. When Grammie had to move to the home, they had dinner there, with some of her friends and floormates. One year she had been in the hospital during thanksgiving, so he and Trevor had tracked down a Denny’s and had their little feast at 3 am.

He’d never been alone before. The realization of that settled like a cold weight in his chest. 

 

*

8 am the next morning, Harvey was awoken by his cellphone. Grumbling and swearing, still mostly asleep, he fumbled for it and answered.

“‘Llo?” He rumbled.

It was Donna.

“Where in your kitchen would I find honey?”

Harvey frowned and sat up in bed. “What?”

“Honey. In your kitchen. Where is it?”

“Why are you-”

Donna opened the bedroom door and stuck her head in, phone in hand. “Because I’m in your condo now where’s the honey?”

Harvey just stared at her. 

“You gave me a key three years ago, this really shouldn’t surprise you,” Donna said. “Honey?”

“Ah… Above the uh coffee maker. Third cabinet from the.. fridge- I thought you were going to Connecticut for the weekend!” He shouted after her as she returned to the kitchen.

He could hear her laughing. “My dad has a new girlfriend who’s only a few years older than me and his sister is going to pitch a fucking fit.”

“So you aren’t going?”

“Nope.” He listened to her footsteps as she returned and poked her head back into his room with a smile. “I’m all yours for Thanksgiving.”

Harvey groaned and dropped back onto the bed. “Why can’t you just go to Connecticut?”

“Because family drama is gross and if I don’t stay you’ll just spend the day in bed.”

“I don’t see a problem with that,” Harvey grumbled, pulling the covers back over his head.

“It’s a holiday Harvey.” Donna reminded him, sitting down next to the lump he made under the covers.

The lump under the covers made a noise of disgust.

“Oh don’t be a baby.”

The lump made another unhappy sound.

“The parade is starting and I brought stuff to cook. Get up and help me.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Harvey come on, I even made you coffee.”

He poked his head out of the covers and glared at her. “I hate you.”

Donna just kissed his nose and left him there to whine.

Thirty minutes later the two of them were sprawled on Harvey’s sofa, Harvey with his second cup of coffee, Donna with her tea, sharing a plate of fruit while the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade played on the TV.

“So your dad has a new girlfriend?” Harvey asked.

“She’s forty five.” Donna snagged a grape from the plate and tossed it to Harvey, who caught it in his teeth with ease.

“Damn, that’s… seriously?”

“Seriously. And my aunt is going to be there. Which means getting drunk off whatever they have to drink, and fighting until 2 am, or till one of them passes out from a stroke.”

Harvey laughed and tossed a piece of cantaloupe for Donna to catch, which she did. “Sounds better than cable, aside from the trip to the hospital afterwards.”

“Yeah well, I’ll ship you up there next time, see how you like it.” Donna sipped her tea and let her gaze trail back to the television. “What’s Mike doing today?”

“How should I know?” Harvey shrugged and grabbed for his coffee. “Probably going to Rachel’s or something.”

He paused mid-sip at Donna’s frown. “What?”

“They broke up.”

Harvey’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“No.”

Donna shrugged. “Rachel got into Columbia’s Law program. They decided it was better for both of them if they ended things now. Let her focus on school and let Mike focus on you.”

“You mean work.”

“That’s what I said.” Harvey shot her a look and she just smiled at him over the brim of her cup. “So I doubt he’s at Rachel’s.”

“Then maybe he’s sleeping the day away,” Harvey nibbled at a piece of apple. “It’s none of my business what he does in his free time, Donna.”

“You want it to be though.”

“Shut up.”

She laughed at him. “I was just wondering if the two of you had talked about plans or anything, see as it’s the first holiday since his Gram passed.”

Harvey paused, coffee cup at his lips, eyes fixed on the tv, but he knew Donna was watching him for a reaction. He sighed and put down his cup, rubbing at his eyes. “I don’t know what you expect me to do about that, Donna.”

“You remember how hard the first year without your dad was.”

“Donna.”

“You think he should be alone?” She asked him.

He scowled at her and a sly smile worked it’s way across her face. She’d planned the whole damn thing.

“You are a horrible, terrible, shitty friend,” Harvey snapped, getting to his feet. Donna laughed at him, setting down her tea and burying her face in her hands as her body shook with laughter. “You do nothing but meddle and pester and nag. You are a Nag. I tell you I need to keep my distance in order to maintain professional dignity, and you just manipulate everything so that I can’t do that, no matter how hard I try.”

“It could be good for you!” She called as he stormed into the kitchen. 

“Humbug!”

Even though he knew he’d been played, as Donna laughed and helped him pack the food, he couldn’t help but smile. 

 

*

It was just before eleven am and Mike was curled up in bed, promptly ignoring everything around him. It was easier than getting up and facing the festivities outside, the chaos of the city caught up in the parade and the smells of good food, live music on every corner. If he stayed wrapped in his blankets, face buried in his pillow, held safe in the silence of his apartment, he’d be able to make it through the day, he was pretty sure. 

If he stayed there, he wouldn’t miss her anymore than he already did.

With a sigh, Mike closed his eyes again and hid his face in the pillow, willing himself back to sleep. It took a few minutes, but he was just on the verge of falling into one of those lovely deep sleeps that last much longer than intended, when there was a shouting and banging at his front door.

He didn’t move. If someone wanted to rob him they were more than welcome. Though he was pretty sure he heard the muffled calling of his name from outside in the hall. He just rolled over and ignored it.

The banging continued, so did the shouting, until he heard someone shout, very clearly- “Goddamn sonnova- Mike wake up!” and the crunch of wood splintering under someone’s boot. There was a moment of silence.

“Shit I think I broke the door.”

“Oh well done genius.”

“Shut up you’re the one who forgot the key. Mike? You home?”

It sounded like Harvey.

Mike groaned and sat up in bed, blanket wrapped around him like a cocoon, and stared, bleary eyed at the doorway to his bedroom. Sure enough, Harvey took the few short strides into his apartment and appeared in the doorway, arms filled with bags.

“Waddvadoinhereee,” Mike mumbled, wiping at his face.

“Good morning to you too sunshine. Welcome to thanksgiving,” Harvey said, rolling his eyes at him. “Why are you still in bed?”

Mike blinked at the clock on the bedside table. “It’s not even 11 yet. On my day off.” And with that Mike burrowed back under his blankets and tried to pretend Harvey wasn’t standing in his bedroom.

“Mike.”

“Go away.”

He heard an exasperated sigh and the thud of whatever bags harvey was carrying being set down on his rickety kitchen table, murmured voices in the kitchen, before something soft collided with his head.

“Go away!” He whined.

“Mike come on, get up.”

“No.”

“You are an unbelievable child,” he heard Harvey say and Mike hoped that meant he was leaving Mike to his misery.

Instead, a pair of strong hands slid under the blankets and curled around Mike’s ankles. With a sharp tug, Mike found himself being dragged from the bed and tossed over Harvey’s shoulder. It took him a minute to register the unexpected movement, but even once he did he just hung over Harvey’s shoulder like a limp noodle.

“You’re such a dick,” he mumbled, biting at Harvey’s thick sweater in retaliation.

“Stop whining,” Harvey scolded, carrying him into the living room, where Mike saw Donna standing at the sink in his kitchenette.

“What are-” he started to ask.

Donna just waved it off. “Neither of us had plans, figured you wouldn’t either. Do you have any pie pans?”

Harvey answered for him. “I packed a couple, they’re over here.”

“Great.” Donna stepped past them and started rummaging in the bags on the kitchen table. “Put him down Harvey.”

Mike grumbled when Harvey dumped him on the sofa. “What are you two doing here?”

“Donna just told you,” Harvey said, helping Donna unpack the bags, shoving a small, already cooked turkey into the fridge. “She didn’t have plans, I didn’t have plans, and here we are.”

“Your condo is nicer,” Mike mumbled.

“Yes it is.”

Mike stared at the two of them in confusion. “I’m lost.”

“We’re having dinner together, Mike,” Donna said. 

“But why?”

Both Harvey and Donna paused in their work and looked over at him, Harvey’s glance much more short lived. His eyes were back on the apples he was washing seconds after Mike’s question had been voiced, but Mike could see something akin to longing on his face. Donna gave Mike a soft smile.

“No one should be alone on a day like this. Even if it’s a stupid historically lame holiday.”

“Oh,” was all Mike could say. He rolled off the couch. “I’m gonna get dressed.”

“Good idea.”

Mike washed his face and pulled on a clean shirt and some jeans. The other two were dressed more casually than Mike had ever seen them, which he figured made sense since they were apparently just crashing at his apartment. He could hear them bickering over counter space and he smiled. It was almost like being around family again.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He asked when he rejoined them. Harvey was busy peeling apples for a pie, Donna pressing the crust into a pie pan they’d produced from one of the bags. 

“You can sit over there and look pretty,” Harvey told him. “Watch the parade, tell us what we’re missing, watch the dog show, something. I don’t trust you in the kitchen.”

“It’s my kitchen. I know it better than you do.”

“I still don’t trust you. Sit.”

Mike sighed and looked around. Their boots had been discarded by the front door, coated in melting snow, their coats hanging on the wall, like they belonged there.

“Did you break my door?” Mike asked, looking at Harvey.

Harvey refused to look at him. “Maybe.”

“You kicked in my door.”

“Maybe.”

“You are ridiculous.”

“I’ll fix it,” Harvey assured him. “Now will you just sit down and relax or something?”

Mike laughed and curled up on the couch, flicking on the tv to find the end of the parade. Sure enough the announcers were talking about Santa Claus being just around the corner, literally. “So why didn’t you guys have plans?”

Donna gave a sharp laugh. “Because Harvey is allergic to the holidays and my family is unbearable.”

“Oh yeah?”

Donna told him all about her father’s affinity for girlfriends half his age, about her crazy aunt who’d never been married, about her cousins and how every holiday turned into a drunken spectacular. Harvey added a comment here and there, focusing on the apples for the pie. Mike watched his careful hands work, peeling the apples with surprising skill, skin worn against the green and white fruit. Harvey told them about the old Thanksgiving dinners he’d shared with his dad and Marcus, about the one or two dinners he and Marcus had shared at Dennys or some sort of diner when their dad was away for work. 

It was simple. It was nice. And Mike found himself caught up in it, not thinking for a moment how much he wanted Grammie there with them.

Donna eventually banished Harvey to the sofa, saying there just wasn’t enough room for them both to be making the stuffing and yams at the same time. So he dropped onto the couch next to Mike and they watched football together, sipping some sort of craft beer Harvey had bought and mocking the commentators. When Donna was finished with the stuffing and yams, she sent Harvey back into the kitchen to finish the pie and to make a batch of eggnog for after dinner. 

“I didn’t know you could cook, Harvey,” Mike said, as Donna flipped through the tv channels for something to watch other than football.

“I’m the oldest, Mike. I had to learn to cook.” Harvey measured out a helping of rum, tasting it before adding it to the pitcher of eggnog. “I was in charge of dinner at least three days a week as a kid.”

“Never would have thought it.” Mike climbed off the couch and went to Harvey’s side, swiping a piece of bread from the basket Donna had left on the edge of the counter. “That your own recipe?”

Harvey nodded and poured Mike a small taste. Mike pressed up against his side and took the glass, not missing the way the corner’s of Harvey’s mouth started to curl and the tips of his ears turned just a little bit red.

The eggnog burned his throat and sent a flood of warmth through him. “Oh that’s good.”

Harvey smiled at him and Mike was dizzy from the sight.

 

*

Two hours later and they were all crammed onto the sofa with plates of food, watching The Godfather Marathon on AMC. Harvey had cut the turkey and dished food out for the three of them, Mike helping with the drinks, and luckily, despite the fight with Mike’s crappy old oven, everything had turned out good. They stole food from each other’s plates, quoted along with the movie despite their mouths being full of food, and after a round of the eggnog, Mike’s laughter had infected him.

Harvey wouldn’t admit it out loud, but sitting there to Mike’s right, legs draped over Mike’s lap with a plate of pie in hand and Donna throwing cranberries for him to catch in his mouth, was more fun than anything he would have done on his own. It was the kind of thing he hadn’t done since he was an associate, just relaxing with good food and friends. Its such a simple thing, especially in comparison to Harvey’s usual social engagements. But he’s laughing, he’s happy, he can feel it in every inch of his body, that old, worn happiness that only comes from being home.  
Who would have thought that home was being wedged in a tiny apartment with fatty food, his best friend, and his associate?

The first movie ended as the sky outside grew dark, and Harvey took it upon himself to clean up the dishes. Donna and Mike were curled together on the couch, with a cup of eggnog a piece, Mike explaining in surprising detail the history of families like the Corleones. Harvey listened with a fond smile as Mike spoke, his words just a little slurred from the eggnog. 

“And unlike the Irish, they got caught. Like a lot.” Mike finished with a flourish, sitting up properly and stretching. “What time is it?”

“Time for me to head home I think,” Donna said.

Harvey gave her a scared look.”You said you were going to stay for the second movie.”

“I may have ditched the family for today, but I’ll at least need to see my dad tomorrow, Harvey. I have to go home and pack.” She smiled at Harvey’s desperate “please-don’t-leave-me” look. “You boys will be okay, right?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna finish off the eggnog, right Harvey?” Mike asked. 

Harvey wanted to say no, wanted to run back to the safety of his condo where he was tempted to do something stupid regarding a certain semi-intoxicated associate. But Donna shot him a look, a warning look that told him if he did he would be sorry. So he agreed.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine. You catching a cab?” he asked.

“I’ll take the car if that’s alright. I don’t want you driving after that,” She indicated the still half full pitcher. “I’ll return it to the car club first thing in the morning, okay?”

Harvey hated her. “Sure.”

She kissed them both good bye and left just as the opening credits of the second film began to roll. Mike climbed off the couch and made his way over to Harvey.

“Let me help,” he said, taking a plate from Harvey’s hand. “You cooked, let me do this.”

“It’s fine, Mike.”

“No, let me wrap this up and we can leave the rest for later. I wouldn’t be surprised if you and I end up munching later tonight.” He grabbed the other two plates before Harvey could and started washing them in the sink. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?” Harvey asked, refilling their drinks and sitting down on the couch.

“This,” Mike waved a hand to the food still sitting on the table, to the drinks, the tv, to Harvey. “Just… Thanks.”

“... You’re welcome, Mike.”

And there was that smile again, the same smile Harvey had seen in the light of the first snow, the one that was happy and sad all at once, that twisted Harvey’s insides into a great big knot.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Mike said, looking away.

“So am I,” Harvey heard himself reply.

That smile lingered until Mike had finished the dishes and he dropped onto the couch next to Harvey. Their fingers overlapped when Harvey handed him his drink and if Mike felt the rush of electricity from it, it didn’t show. He just snuggled back into the couch, blanket pulled around him and focused on the movie with a lazy, content smile.

It faded with the last of Mike’s drink.

“I miss her,” Mike said, as they watched Michael Corleone conduct a meeting on screen. Harvey glanced over at Mike. His eyes were red and watery, body curled in on himself. With a sigh, he reached over and pulled Mike against him, arm around his shoulders. 

“I know kid. I know.”

“It isn’t fair,” Mike said and Harvey was reminded of Marcus, the day they buried his father. “She promised she wouldn’t leave.”

“You’re going to be alright, Mike.” Harvey pressed his face into Mike’s messy hair and sighed. “You’ve got us.”

“I’ve got you,” Mike repeated, pressing closer into Harvey’s side. 

“Yeah, you do.”

And there was the smile again. And Mike was moving, reaching up and kissing Harvey’s cheek, nuzzling it and curling into Harvey’s side.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Harv.”

Harvey would later blame the eggnog for all of it, but he smiled and kissed Mike’s nose. “Happy thanksgiving, you brat.” Mike giggled and closed his eyes with a sigh.

When Harvey woke up the next morning, he and Mike were still on the sofa, tough through the night he’d ended up on his back with Mike sprawled out on top of him. Mike’s face was pressed into Harvey’s sweater, the perfect picture of peace, and Harvey couldn’t bring himself to disturb him. So he kissed Mike’s hair and closed his eyes again, enjoying the warmth of Mike’s body against his for as long as he could.


End file.
